This morning while I was sipping my Jarrah, watching my precious ones in their flurry of getting ready for school, Spindles rushed in, beet-red in the face and proceeded to vomit his brekky into an icecream bucket. A classic, what-we-call-in-our-household 'dinner is served" moment' . Morning Jarrah not tasting so good no more!
I said:' Right, Spindles, you not going to school today."
And this is what happened for the next 25 minutes. Both Diva and Roly wafted like bad gas around me, muttering loudly about the life threatening illnesses they had both suddenly and mysteriously been afflicted by. I checked both heads with my lips, declaring them to be "cool as cucumbers' (I remember how I hated it when you used to say that to me , Mom!:))
After dismissing my lips as a totally fallible means of checking one's (faked) illness , and searching for 10 minutes to find the thermometer, Roly's dialogue was now interrupted by lengthy sessions of temperature taking. Great maths workout actully. Our thermometer needs .4 added to whatever the given temp is, due to an overvigourous clean I gave it once.Roly even put the thing under his arm pit!
I suggested that in the interest of accuracy, he might let me take his temperature the way a vet does with an animal. He showed initial interest, but after I described what it would entail, Roly kept HIS tail out of reach! But I still had to pull the darned thermometer out of his mouth as he walked out the door.
The Real Thing!!
Spindles likes the thought of reading all day!
Oooops, Mom is looking! Better stick my sick look back on!